


I just wanna stay in (and be with you)

by lovelyflowersinherhair



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/pseuds/lovelyflowersinherhair
Summary: “Are you sure that you just want to stay home today?” Heather asked her. “It’s your birthday.”
Relationships: Heather Louise McCartney & Linda McCartney, Heather Louise McCartney & Mary Anna McCartney, Heather Louise McCartney & Paul McCartney, Linda McCartney/Paul McCartney, Mary Anna McCartney & Linda McCartney, Mary Anna McCartney & Paul McCartney
Kudos: 7





	I just wanna stay in (and be with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Linda

“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Paul asked Mary quietly. Their little girl had been having a rather rough night, and Paul didn’t know if it was deliberately due to Mary knowing that he had told Linda to sleep through the night, or if the little girl was just unable to sleep, but he was absolutely knackered. “Are ye hungry? Do ye need a fresh nappy?” 

He lifted her up into his arms, content to hold her for a moment. There was a part of Paul that couldn’t believe that he and Linda actually had a baby -- that she was finally there -- and he was of the belief that there was no need to assume that he was spoiling her by giving her a cuddle when she needed it. Paul hated when Mary was upset. 

He brushed a kiss to the top of her head. Mary’s sobs had softened, but he knew that she was still wide awake. As was Paul. In spite of the fact that he hadn’t managed to get a full night of sleep since Mary had come kicking and screaming into the world, there was nothing like the pierce of a cry to cause him to immediately rouse. 

The only reason that Linda was soundly asleep was because it was her birthday, and Paul had snuck into the studio to get her a pair of earplugs. She needed her rest, regardless of whether or not Mary believed she did. 

“Come ead,” he whispered, as he shifted his hold on her. “Why don’t we get you a bottle?” Mary whimpered. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “You want your mum.” 

Mary couldn’t respond, of course, being a baby. “It’s Mummy’s birthday today,” he told her. “I want her to have a good night’s sleep, she works hard to take care of you and your sister, y’know? She’s a brilliant Mummy.” 

Paul gently pushed open the door to Heather’s room as they headed past it. Heather was soundly asleep under her covers, surrounded by her stuffed animals, and Martha, Paul’s faithful companion, was curled up at the foot of her bed. Thisbe was on Heather’s windowsill, and the feline gave him a reproachful gaze. Paul wasn’t going to bother Heather. She was sleeping. Heather’s room contained a rocking chair and a cot for the baby. Though Mary was much too young to be out of Paul and Linda’s bedroom, they had compromised. Mary was allowed to take naps in Heather’s room, and the rocking chair had been allowed to have a position of prominence. He decided that he could feed the baby in there. 

“Yeah,” he continued to chatter at the baby. “Your mum’s the best. I dunno where I’d be without her,” he admitted softly. “Your mum...you...your sister, you’ve all given me a purpose.” He gave Mary another kiss. 

Paul took the stairs one at a time, mindful of the fact that the baby was fragile, and he headed into the kitchen. Linda had prepared some bottles for Mary in preparation for a night of solid rest, and he knew that they were her milk, so the fact that Mary had seemed resentful of them was a little confusing to him. 

“How about I heat it up this time?” Paul suggested idly. He set the kettle to boil. Mary grabbed onto his finger. “Yeah, that’s me,” he whispered. “I know. Hi.” 

Being a father to Heather had come naturally to Paul -- she was old enough that she could clearly identify her wants and needs, and he delighted in providing them for her -- but Mary was a baby. Paul had been in the presence of babies before, of course, but there was a difference between being handed a baby for a matter of moments and raising his own daughter. There was a bit of a learning curve for him. 

Linda had mentioned to him -- after he’d put Mary down for what had felt like the millionth time and crawled back into bed beside her -- that she didn’t think Mary wanted him to feed her cold bottles. The thought truly hadn’t occurred to him, but he reckoned it made sense. The milk that Linda fed her was certainly warm when he’d tasted it -- why wouldn’t Mary prefer it that way? 

“Mum told me that you like your milk warm,” he informed the little one. Mary had stuck his finger in her mouth, and begun sucking on it rather furiously. “I didn’t know that. You ought to have told me.” 

Of course, Paul knew that the baby couldn’t talk, and he supposed that the hatred of cold milk explained why Mary’d flung the last bottle he’d tried to give her halfway across the room, but how was he meant to know? He’d never bothered to have these discussions with anyone before. It was new to him. 

“I was thinking, y’know, maybe you’d like to have a bottle in your sister’s room,” he rambled. He swore that Mary’s eyes lit up at the thought of Heather. “Yeah, I know, you love her. She loves you so much.” 

Paul knew that he was taking a chance on Heather waking up and not wanting to get back to sleep, but it was a risk that he was willing to take. Mary needed to eat, and he was bloody knackered. If Heather wanted to get up at a five in the bloody morning and play with her baby sister, he was more than willing to doze off on her bed. 

Bottle -- now warmed -- in his free hand, he headed up the stairs, and returned to Heather’s room. Heather was still soundly asleep, but he didn’t know how he rated her chances of remaining asleep if Mary started to fuss. Not that that seemed a likely possibility. Mary had been subdued by the presence of his finger in her mouth, and the bottle was properly warmed. It was possible that she might even go off to sleep. 

Mary hated the cot when she was in the one in her proper bedroom, but Heather insisted that she didn’t seem to mind the one that was beside her bed. 

Paul settled himself in the rocking chair, and he tucked a blanket across his lap, before he adjusted his hold on the baby, and inserted the nipple in her mouth. “That’s a lass,” he whispered. His eyes fluttered shut. “You be a good girl, little Mary. Mum and I are tired.”

Mary greedily sucked at the bottle. Paul couldn’t help relaxing enough to doze off. He was exhausted. 

“Daddy?” Heather asked him, her voice vaguely audible through the haze of his sleep-filled mind. “What are you doing in here?” 

Paul forced himself to open his eyes. “Thought I’d see if your sister would take a bottle in here,” he told her. He scrubbed his face with his free hand. “I wasn’t sleeping, honest.” 

“You were snoring,” Heather whispered. “What’s Mary doing?” 

“Giving me a lot of trouble,” he admitted. He patted his knee. “Why don’t you come up and sit with ‘er,” he suggested. “When she’s done with her bottle, I reckoned she’d sleep in here for a little bit. I could sleep on your bed, I guess. She hates her cot in my room.” 

Heather scrambled up onto his lap, though he noticed that she took great care not to jostle little Mary. 

“I told you,” Heather whispered, her fingers on Mary’s thigh. “She likes my room better because she’s closer to me.” 

“I told you, she’s too young to be in here full time. I keep telling her that.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Heather insisted. “I mean she’s closer -- the cot is closer -- to the bed. She doesn’t like being across the room from you. It scares her.” 

Paul yawned. “Will you tell me what you mean tomorrow?” 

“Uh huh,” she agreed. “It’s tomorrow already,” she pointed out. “Mummy’s birthday.” 

“Our first birthday all as a family,” he whispered. He was exhausted, but he was still capable of pointing that out. “That’s brill, isn’t it?” 

“Uh huh. Daddy? Can she really sleep in my room?” 

“Heath…darling, I’m so tired. She can do whatever she wants that gets her to sleep.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Linda felt refreshed for the first time in over a month, and she felt rather wary at the feeling of a good night’s sleep, especially when she got a glimpse of the time on the alarm clock on Paul’s nightstand. How had she slept until ten? 

Paul had promised her that he would handle Mary the entire evening, and he had kept his promise, though she had done her best to convince him that she was fine to take over, but he was soundly asleep beside her, and Mary was suspiciously quiet. In fact, a glance over at Mary’s cot revealed that their child wasn’t even there.

She shook Paul’s shoulder. “Where is our child?” 

Paul’s eyes fluttered open, and they fluttered shut. “Morning, Mama,” he whispered. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thank you, Paul,” she whispered. “Where is Mary?” 

“I had her bunk in with Hettie,” Paul said in response, his voice filled with sleep. “Heather said that she liked the cot more, y’know, in her room, so I reckoned that I’d give it a go.” He blinked. “You want me to handle that?” He gestured -- rather tiredly -- to her breasts. They were engorged with milk, and she desperately needed to nurse. 

“I’ll just feed the baby,” she decided. “Surely she’s awake by now.” 

She brushed a kiss to his lips. “Why don’t you go back to bed? You need your rest.” 

Though she had mostly recovered from giving birth to her little monster, there was little appealing about the thought of Paul potentially falling asleep while he was sucking her tits, no matter how much she missed being sexually present with him. Especially at ten o’clock in the morning, while Heather was nominally in charge of her little sister. It was clear that Paul was exhausted. 

“Mummy?” Linda heard Heather ask, and she gave Paul a final kiss. “Mummy, I think she’s hungry.” 

“I’m coming,” Linda insisted. “We’re going to let your father sleep, okay?” 

She climbed out of bed, and slipped on her robe and slippers. The nursing pads that she’d slept in the night before were having little effect, and while she didn’t necessarily mind the shirt she slept in getting covered in milk...she wanted to feed the baby rather than waste it. 

Mary was fussing, but Linda was pleased to see that she was mostly content to be held by her big sister. She ushered them out into the hallway. The last thing she wanted was for Paul to decide to get up because he thought Mary was sad he was getting needed rest. 

“I need to change your sister’s nappy, I’m sure--”

“I did it, Mum!” Heather chirped. “All on my own. Like you and Daddy do. I wanted to because it’s your birthday.” 

“You did?” Linda was touched. Heather nodded. “You didn’t have to.” 

“Happy birthday, Mummy,” she whispered. “Mary slept the whole time.” 

“Did she?” Linda eyed the baby suspiciously. “What is the difference between your sister’s room and ours?” 

“I told Daddy,” Heather said. “She likes that the cot’s closer.” 

Heather had been insisting that Mary liked sleeping in her room more than she did in her mum and dad’s, and Linda had to admit that she had been discounting what her child had been saying. She’d assumed it was Heather’s attempt to get Mary to sleep in her room permanently, in spite of the child being less than a month old. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know that was what you meant.” 

“It’s okay,” Heather shrugged. “Do you want to hold her? I don’t want to carry her down the stairs.” 

Linda scooped Mary up with ease, and she settled the baby on one of her breasts. The relief that she felt when Mary started to nurse was instantaneous. She took Heather’s hand in hers, and they headed down the steps. 

“Are you sure that you just want to stay home today?” Heather asked her. “It’s your birthday.” 

“I know,” she told her. “Really, I just want to stay home, and be with you, and your daddy, and your sister.” 

Heather grinned. “You mean it?” 

“Yeah, I mean it.” 

  
  



End file.
